


You're My Favorite

by EJWalters



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Wow, a lot of fluff, cant get over how fluffy this is, this is just so fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 16:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19299292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EJWalters/pseuds/EJWalters
Summary: You and Crowley have been pining over eachother for milenia without either of you knowing it. But Aziraphale knows and so he tells Crowley to get a bloody move on. Which he does.





	You're My Favorite

You were in the bookshop with Aziraphale, browsing the titles and looking for something interesting for your next read when the bell over the door of the shop rang out.

“We’re closed!” you automatically called.

“Even for me?” a familiar voice asked, suddenly right beside your ear.

You grin and glance up at the tall, handsome man beside you, “Never for you, Crowley. You’re my favorite. Azi is in the back looking over some new shipments if you want to talk to him.”

Crowley nodded and kissed your temple before going to talk to Aziraphale in the back room.

You continued to read down the familiar worn down spines of the old books as you heard the muffled voices of Crowley and Aziraphale in the back room. You dimly wondered what they were talking about, but focused more on finding a book to curl up in a comfy chair and read with a mug of tea and a blanket. You found one a few moments later. You went into the kitchen to make up a cup of hot tea, making sure to keep the book away from the kettle and the stove. The boys were at the table, chatting idly and you felt a pair of eyes on you as you picked out a mug and a tea bag from the collection. You had a collection of them that you had started a few centuries ago. By now, there were two cupboards designated for your mugs as you kept picking up whichever ones you fancied. Aziraphale didn’t mind and actually accommodated your large collection of mugs. You grabbed one and dropped the tea bag into it as the kettle started to whistle. You glanced back as you started to pour the hot water into the mug. Crowley was looking at you with those amber colored snake eyes of his, his sunglasses set carelessly on the table. You felt something very hot on your hand before you realized you had missed the mug and hit your hand with the hot water. With a yelp, you yanked your hand back, knocking the mug off the counter and sending it to the floor where it shattered. You bit your lip and set the kettle down on the stove, holding back tears that came mostly from surprise and shock, but also pain.

Crowley reacted first. He got to his feet and snapped his fingers. The mug was instantly put back together as though it had never been broken and was sitting nicely on the counter, full of a nice, hot cup of oolong tea. He gently took your hand and looked at it.

“Can you heal it?” he asked.

You shook your head, “Angels can’t heal other angels.”

He waved his hand over it, making the angry red skin return to it’s normal hue before pressing a light kiss to it, “There. All better.”

You smiled and kissed his cheek, “Thank you.”

Crowley gave you a small smile, “Anytime, love.”

You took his hand and gave it a small squeeze before taking the mug and the book and going to your chair in the shop to curl up and read the book you had picked out.

 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, “You should tell her.”

“I should tell who what?”

Aziraphale gave him a look, “Tell (Y/N) how you feel about her.”

Crowley scoffed, “Oh? And how do I feel about her?”

He let out a little sigh, “You love her, Crowley. And don’t deny it. I’ve known you for milenia and in all that time, you’ve never been as soft with anyone as you are with her.”

“I am not soft,” Crowley growled.

“But with her you are,” Aziraphale said gently.

“What’s your point, angel?”

“You should tell her how you feel. She loves you, you know.”

“How could an angel love a demon?”

“How could a demon love an angel?” Aziraphale countered.

Crowley sighed, “I hate it when you turn things around on me like that.”

 

You heard the door to the back room open and the familiar sauntering footsteps of Crowley walking towards you where you sitting curled up in your chair reading the book you had picked out.

“Haven’t you already read that one?” Crowley asked when he saw the title.

You hummed in response and nodded, “About a hundred times, yes.”

“How do you not get bored of it?”

“How do you not get bored of listening to the same Queen songs over and over?” you retorted.

He gave a small chuckle, “Touche.”

You turned the page, a little smile gracing your features.

Crowley put his hands in his pockets, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Just a moment,” you finished your paragraph, put a bookmark into the book and closed it, giving him your full attention, “You okay?”

He nodded, “I just need to tell you something.”

You felt your anxiety spike, “Okay? What is it?”

“I’ve had feelings for you for a long time now and I think it’s time I’ve told you,” he said.

You blinked, “You- you do?”

He nodded, “I do.”

You sat there and stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying to you.

“You know what, forget I said anything,” Crowley said, and started to walk away.

That snapped you out of your surprise, “And why should I do that?”

“Because you clearly don’t feel the same way,” he said, gesturing vaguely in your direction.

“Did I say that?” you asked, teasing him a little.

He rolled his eyes, “You’re silence said more than your words need to.”

“Well my words have a completely different message to give you,” you said.

“They do?” he asked, his eyes betraying the hope that he felt from what you were saying.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face, “They do.”

“Well what’s the message?”

You waved him over to you, smiling broadly. He took a couple steps towards you, used to your antics and always willing to entertain them. You waved him closer to you again. He walked over so that he was standing directly in front of your chair. You waved him closer again. He knelt down before you, amusement dancing in his eyes. You waved him closer yet again. He turned his ear toward you and leaned in. You put your hand up as though to tell him a secret like you had seen little children do before time and again. But instead of telling Crowley a secret, you moved your hand to his face, turned it towards yours, and kissed him. You could tell he was surprised, but he was quick to return your affections. After a few moments, you pulled away from him, keeping your forehead against his.

“The message is that I love you, Anthony J. Crowley. I have since I met you in Rome all those centuries ago and you stopped me from buying that cursed amulet. And I’ve loved you more and more every day. I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you felt the same way,” you said.

He smiled, a full, genuine smile, “I’ve loved you since I first saw you in Rome looking at the amulet. You’re hair looked like a gem in the sunlight,” he grabbed a strand and pulled it through his fingers reverently, “You’re eyes were so full of wonder and curiosity. You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, your smile turning bashful, “Is that why you stopped me from buying the amulet?”

“Well I couldn’t have the most beautiful creature God has ever made be cursed by a damn amulet could I?” he countered.

You chuckled, “I suppose not.”

He put his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over your cheekbone, “(Y/N)?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“I love you too.”

You smiled and turned your head to kiss his palm, “You ought to. You’re my favorite.”

Crowley chuckled, “So that’s what you’ve meant all this time?”

“What?”

“Calling me your favorite has always meant ‘I love you’ hasn’t it?”

You laughed, “Took you long enough to figure out, idiot.”

He kissed you slowly and sweetly before pulling away with a soft smile, “I love you too.”


End file.
